No Regrets. Cindi Myers
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address and a few figures. “It’s a bid to do background checks on potential employees. It needs to go out this afternoon. There’s stationery and envelopes in the supply cabinet.”
“Sure, I’ll get right on it.” She took the paper and walked over to the computer, aware of his eyes on her. She knew the combination of tight skirt and high heels drew attention to her figure but then, that was the idea, wasn’t it? No more blending into the background for her. And she couldn’t say she disliked the idea of Nick being attracted to her. After all, he was good-looking and apparently single—there were definitely sparks between them.
She sat and rolled her chair up to the desk. “Is there anything else?” she asked, deliberately keeping her voice low and sultry.
He blinked and she suppressed a smile. “Make a copy for the files while you’re at it,” he said.
She nodded. There weren’t many files so far. She’d checked. In fact, everything about the place indicated Nick hadn’t been in business long. “How long have you been a private eye?” she asked.
He frowned and she thought he was about to tell her to mind her own business. But he said, “A little over a year. Before that I was a cop.”
“In Denver?” She opened the word processing program on the computer.
“Houston.”
She thought she’d detected a bit of a Texas drawl. Very nice.
“As long as we’re asking questions, I’ve got one for you.”
Her stomach gave a nervous shimmy. Did he intend to interrogate her? She had nothing to hide. She looked up, meeting his gaze. He had amazing blue eyes, pale against his tan skin. “What would you like to know?”
“Your name. I’ve never known anyone called Lexie before.”
“It’s short for Alexandra. But no one calls me that, not even my mother.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied, and turned to go into his office. She wanted to ask him to stay, to talk a little longer. She’d like to get to know him better, but she supposed that would come in time. She hated to waste time these days. She had so much she wanted to accomplish, she was impatient to take care of one item on her list and move on to the next.
The letter was done in ten minutes and she took it in for his signature. He was on the phone when she entered, and signed without comment. So much for continuing their conversation.
The rest of the morning passed with agonizing slowness. She straightened magazines and watered the lone rubber tree in the corner of the office. With nothing else to do, she took out the Spanish textbook she’d recently purchased and began leafing through that. Tonight she started Spanish classes at Red Rocks Community College. Number seventeen on her list.
Shortly before noon, Nick emerged from the office and walked straight to her desk. Startled, she slammed the book shut and shoved it into a drawer. “Did you need something?” she asked.
“Do you have plans for lunch?”
“No.” She’d thought about walking to the fast-food place on the corner and bringing something back here. Maybe he’d like her to bring him something, too.
“Good. You can come with me. Seeing as it’s your first day, I thought I should buy you lunch.”
Not exactly an invitation to a hot date, but she’d take it. She took her purse from the desk drawer and stood. “That would be great.”
They went in his car—a Ford Explorer that had seen better days. He had to sweep out a litter of food wrappers and convenience-store coffee cups before she could climb into the passenger seat. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “One of the things about doing P.I. work is you tend to live out of your car.”
She fastened her seat belt, then picked up a key map and a telephone directory off the floor. “I guess you use these in your work.”
He nodded and stashed the books behind the front seat. “There’s a telephoto lens, binoculars and a cell phone charger down there somewhere, too.”
“Tools of the trade,” she said.
“That’s right.”
They headed south from the office on Colfax, past tattoo parlors, pawn shops and funky boutiques, to Vick’s, a six-table café wedged between a liquor store and a mini-mart. “It’s not fancy, but the food is good,” he said as he ushered her inside.
The first thing she noticed was all the cops—two sheriff’s deputies, three police officers and a man with a federal badge filled the tables. “Is this some kind of cop hangout?” she whispered as she slid into a chair across from Nick.
“Yeah. We know where all the great dives are.”
His grin startled her—all white teeth and a light in his eyes that stole her breath. She’d thought he was handsome before, but smiling, he was transformed. The word devastating came to mind.
The waitress arrived and they ordered from the menu that was written on a chalkboard posted on the back wall—a burger for Nick and a Greek salad for Lexie.
“Why did you decide to quit being a cop and become a P.I.?” she asked when they were alone again.
He picked up his fork and began turning it over in his hand. “It’s a long story.”
She spread her napkin in her lap and gave him an expectant look, saying nothing. She’d learned that if you kept silent long enough most people would say something to fill it.
He took a long drink of iced tea, then set it down with a loud thump. “You really want to know?”
She nodded.
“I was married. One day I came home and found all my stuff packed in boxes and suitcases in the front hall. My wife asked me to move out.” His voice was calm, but the lines around his eyes deepened and his knuckles whitened on the hand that held the glass.
“That’s pretty cold,” she said, trying for sympathy without pity.
“Yeah, well, she said she’d been trying to let me know how unhappy she was, but I was so wrapped up in work I hadn’t noticed, so she figured kicking me out was one way to make sure I got the message.”
Give the woman points for being direct. “What did you do?”
“I was stunned. I really hadn’t had a clue. I got a room at a cheap hotel and promised her I’d make things better. Since she seemed to think my job was part of the problem, I quit. I decided being my own boss offered more flexibility and better hours.”
Wow. He must have really wanted to save his marriage. She couldn’t imagine loving someone enough to make that kind of sacrifice. “But it didn’t work?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Turns out the problem wasn’t really my job—it was her boyfriend who’d lost his job and wanted to move in with her.”
She winced. “Ouch.”
The waitress delivered their order. The salad looked delicious. “Why didn’t you go back to your old job when things didn’t work out with your wife?”
He poured ketchup over his fries. “By then I kind of liked the P.I. business. No office politics, make your own hours. It was a good fit for me.”
“Okay, then why Denver?”
He shrugged. “I knew a few people up here. The climate’s good. It seemed like a good place to start over.”
She nodded. “I guess I can see why you wouldn’t want to stay in Houston.”
“Your turn. Why did you quit Culpepper and Piper and come to work for a one-man detective agency?”
She speared an olive on her fork and swiped it through a pool of dressing. “Kind of like you, I guess. I’m starting my life over.”
He